


Red Velvet Cakes

by waywardbaby



Category: SPN, Supernatural
Genre: Angry Reader, Cupcakes, Explicit Language, F/M, Fingering, Language, Shameless Smut, Smut, Sweet, Sweet/Hot, nsfw-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 11:56:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17508167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardbaby/pseuds/waywardbaby





	Red Velvet Cakes

******************************************************************

“Dean Winchester, you’re an ass!!” you yelled from your spot across the table in the big room. Your voice echoed in the quiet building, making it sound even louder.  
You stood up, your boots hitting the floor with a loud thud and your hand curled around the beer bottle that was sitting in front of you, half empty. Without a second thought you flung it towards him, aiming at his stupid head. Seeing the flying object coming his way, he tilted to the right, the bottle missing him by mere inches and landing on the wall behind him. It shattered, sending its pieces flying in all directions and whatever liquid that was still in it now running down the wall, leaving streaks of brown.  
He turned around, dumbfounded, and took a look at the shattered bottle, the stain on the wall and then back to you. His eyes were wide, from the shock but you could also make out a small gleam of amusement dancing in them. And that made you feel even angrier.  
You felt as if your whole body was on fire and you must be looking like a crazy person right now. You had been fighting with him for almost an hour. Trying to make him understand that it was about time he’d let you take part in the next hunt. It would be a quick salt and burn and you felt ready. But he had been adamant. Still refusing to let you tag along. His full lips had been drawn into a thin line, he had been babbling all kinds of nonsense about you being too young, too inexperienced, too everything.  
Slowly but steadily you’d felt the blood boil in your veins and you could almost hear the thumbing of your heart in your ears but you had tried to remain calm and reason with him. You were young but not that young. You were twenty five after all. And also, if he didn’t let you take part in anything how would you get experienced? But, nope. Anything you’d said had just hit the wall behind him before the beer bottle. So, the aim at his head, throw a beer bottle at his stupid ass, was the only conclusion of your arguing.  
“What the hell Y/N?! Why did you throw that beer bottle at me. You could have hit me !!” he shouted.  
“I know, you dumbass!! That was my intention. Maybe if you got hit, your stupid brain would process what I said and understand exactly how big of a jerk you are. But, I guess a beer bottle is nothing. I’d need Thor’s hammer to bash your head in with!” you barked and throwing your hands in the air, cursing all Gods that existed, you stormed out and down the corridor to find shelter in your room. You kicked the door shut and immediately took off your flannel shirt, your jeans and your boots, leaving only your oversized tee on in an attempt to cool your flushed skin. You plopped yourself on the bed and throwing your arm over your eyes you tried to relax.  
A thousand possible ways to murder him, easily danced in your head when there was a knock on the door. “Go away!! I don’t wanna see you, talk to you or be near you, Dean!” you shouted. You heard his footsteps moving away and the creaking of his own door as he opened and closed it.  
God, this man was driving you insane. With his constant arguing, denying everything and anything you thought would make you happy. You knew that he was trying to protect you. Shelter you from all the harm that surrounded your lives. So, in a desperate effort to give him the benefit of a doubt you’d tried seeing things from his point of you. Understand him better. You started studying him. The way he would squint his beautiful eyes a little and softly bite the tip of his tongue when he tried to focus on something. How he sometimes hummed his favorite songs when he was busy with cooking. How adorable he looked when he argued with Sam about things that brothers usually argue about.  
But lately, you realized that all this focus of your attention on him had caused other feelings to start shaping. Feelings you didn’t dare admit to anybody. And that aided and added to your exasperation. The older Winchester had managed to latch on your heart and that was something you didn’t know how to deal with. You had never felt anything like that ever before so you did the only thing you knew. You argued, fought and back-talked to him in a desperate effort to blow off some steam. But the more you fought, the more you felt drawn to him. The more he denied you things , the more desperate you became.  
“Son of a bitch!” you muttered and turning on your stomach, you put your head under a pillow and tried going to sleep. You must have dozed off for a while when a loud crash made you shoot up and look around you in confusion. Trying to focus, you then heard a few more noises and something that sounded like a string of cursing. You slowly opened your door and followed the noise, thankful for your bare feet that would let you move undetected.  
You soon discovered that the source of the noise was in the kitchen. You reached the entrance and peaked inside, but what you saw was beyond anything that you could have ever imagined. There was Dean, standing in front of the big kitchen table, at war with a million ingredients. Flour and sugar was sprinkled on the wooden expanse, a bowl with what looked like vanilla frosting a few inches further away and a cup cake baking pan filled with dough.  
You took that picture in with one glance but your eyes lingered on the man standing in front of you. An image taken out of a wet dream, a porn movie, a smutty novel. He was wearing only his jeans. No flannel, no tee, no anything. His chest was rising and falling in his attempt to work with the ingredients scattered in front of him, sugar grains stuck on several parts of him. His face focused on his task, a small blot of frosting on his cheek and that sinful tongue again peaking outside his mouth. He was barefoot and although you had never thought that feet could be sexy, you found yourself staring at his.  
A small sigh left your lips before you could stop it and his hunter sense of hearing, of course, caught up on that. Without turning his head he called to you: “Come out of your hiding spot, little one!”  
“I’m not hiding, you jerk!”, you tried to sound offended, “I just heard the ruckus you’ve been making and came to make sure that you were ok and that you won’t blow up the kitchen!” You got in the semi- bombarded room and moving closer you inspected the table. “What in Chuck’s name are you doing?!” you asked.  
“I’m trying to make some red velvet cakes. I know they’re your favorite and I wanted to sweeten you up. We haven’t been on the best of terms lately, and although I don’t know why that is, I don’t like it when we fight. So I thought that this would be a way to patch things up”  
You chuckled and realized that no matter how sincere his efforts had been, what you saw in front of you could never turn into red velvet cakes. The only thing that looked good was the frosting and dipping your finger inside the bowl you tasted it. It was indeed delicious and a small moan escaped your lips. “Poor, Dean! You’re going at it the wrong way, baby!” you said, immediately regretting the last word. His eyebrows rose just a little and he looked at you under his long, thick eyelashes.  
“What did you call me, little one?” he asked, his voice a deep rumble, hittting you to your very core.  
“I’m sorry! It just slipped out! It won’t happen again!” You apologized, feeling your cheeks flush more red than all the red velvet cakes ever made.  
He left his spot and came around to your side of the table. He stood behind you and although he didn’t touch you, you could feel the warmth of his body burning you. You closed your eyes and waited for him to say something. To do something. After what seemed like an eternity, you felt his breath against your ear.  
“Say it again!” he commanded, placing his hands on your waist and turning you around so that now you were facing him. You raised your eyes to his and repeated it in a warm, seductive whisper:  
“Baby!”  
He grabbed the back of your neck and bringing your face close to his, moaned against your lips : “You have no idea what you do to me! I could just…”  
“You could just, what?” You asked, while your tongue licked at his bottom lip, a taste of sugar lingering on it.  
“Oh, little one. I could just bend you over this table and fuck you senseless. I bet you’re sweeter than any of the ingredients here.” Your head was swimming, desire was quickly bubbling inside your core and you tried pinching yourself to make sure that you weren’t dreaming. The small ping of pain that followed your pinch, indeed alerted you to the fact that everything was real. This was something that you wanted. Something that you had been craving for a long time. So, damn with the concequences, you were absolutely doing it.  
“And who’s stopping you?” you cooed as you turned around again and bending over the table rested the upper part of your body on it, your palms flat on it.  
The only thing you could hear was his heavy breathing, like he was desperately trying to control an urge. Like he was trying to reign in a madness that was torturing him. As your cheek rested on the wooden surface you could see him behind you, falling to his knees. His fingers traced small circles around your ankles and started a slow, arousing ascent. They travelled all they way up the inside of your thighs and that’s when each hand took a different route.  
The left one went higher up and rested on your ass, kneading at it and squeezing the left globe with just the right amount of pressure. The right one though, oh the right one. His index finger was rubbing your slit over your cotton panties, slowly soaking up the material with your arousal. Your body was responding to his touch to the maximum possible degree and your chest, pressed on the table was rising and falling faster and faster. Low moans were the only sounds capable of escaping your lips and the chanting of his name the only word your brain could form.  
“Baby girl, my name spilling from your lips is one of the sexiest, most arousing things I have ever heard. And your pussy? I feels so hot against my fingers that I just have to do this!” he said and pushing the soaked up material out of the way he sank two fingers inside your already dripping heat and started pumping them. Each pump coating them with more of you.  
“Oh, fuck, this feels so good!” you shamelessly moaned trying at the same time to hold on to something, fearful that your knees would buckle at any minute.  
He stood up and bending over your body whispered in your ear : “You like that, don’t you, little one? You like my fingers fucking you?” A nod of the head was your answer but that wasn’t enough for him. While he was still fingering you, his left hand landed on your ass, sending a delightful sting of pain through your body making you move a little further up on the table. “I need words, baby. I need to hear your sexy voice. So, let’s try this again. Do you like the feeling of my fingers as they slowly fuck your pussy?”  
Was it possible for you to cum just by that? Well, is sure felt possible right now. So, you turned your head towards his direction as much as possible, searching for his eyes. He immediately looked at you and you answered his question in a low, breathy voice filled with lust. A voice you didn’t recognize as your own. “Fuck, yes. I love it. But this is not enough. I need to have your cock inside me. I need you to make me cum on it.”  
The noise that left his lips was definitely not human. A mix between a snake’s hiss and a lion’s roar. His hand fisted your hair, pulling you all the way up until you were pressed flush against his chest. His fingers slipped out of your core and you heard him as he licked them clean. “Jesus, fucking, Christ! Tasting so sweet should be illegal, baby. I could totally get addicted to eating you out!”  
You turned around, being caged between the table and his body and your fingers quickly fumbled with the button and zipper. You had barely unzipped it when your hand slipped inside and found his cock, already hard and throbbing. Your thumb swiped over the tip and using the beads of precum that were already there started pumping him. He looked down, between you, at your hand working its magic and then back in your eyes. His lips crushed on yours, wild, demanding, needing to devour you. There was biting, licking and sucking. His hand again fisting at the nape of your neck so you couldn’t escape his hungry mouth. Your moaning matching his as you were both climbing higher and higher.  
Suddenly he took a step backwards, breaking the kiss and slipping out of your hand. He tugged at his jeans until they fell down his legs and quickly took them off. Reaching his arm out, grabbed your tee and pulled you close to him. He lifted it and sent it flying over your head, landing somewhere on the kitchen floor. Next was the ripping of your cotton panties as his fingers tangled in them. His hands dug at your waist, lifting you off the floor and placing you on the table.  
He took one quick look at you and moving even closer, ordered : “Spread your legs, baby. Spread them wide open!” You slowly parted your legs, opening them as widely as you could and you saw his gaze grow dark, even hungrier than before. “Son of a bitch!” he muttered and positioning himself at your entrance, he thrusted deep inside you. You let out a scream as you were stretched and filled to the hilt. He pulled back but before doing anything else looked at you as if he needed the affirmation that you were ok. That you could take it.  
“Give it to me!! Now!” you commanded, and he slipped back inside you. His rhythm was relentless, powerful, dominating and possessing every fiber of your being, every cell of your body.  
“Tell me you’re mine. Tell me that you want this as much as I do!” he said through gritted teeth.  
You wrapped your leg as around his waist and your arms around his neck, trying to keep him as close to you as possible. Your lips were on his, not kissing him but telling him what he wanted to hear. Telling him what you had been keeping inside you all this time : “I want this so much. I’ve needed this for so long. Craved to be touched by you. Hell, I longed for the moment I’d get to feel you inside me. So, yes. I’m yours. Now and forever. There could never be anyone else but you. Ever!”  
His head fell to your shoulder and his teeth bit down to the point you felt that there would be blood. He sucked and bit at your flesh as if you were the most delicious meal and he had been a starving man.  
“YOU. ARE. MINE. ” he repeated with every pounding of his hips, with every breath he took, with every squeeze of his hands and with every bite of his teeth. You tried matching his thrusts, take him deeper inside you as you felt yourself ready to fall off the edge. “Please”, you begged, “don’t stop!! I’m gonna cum!”  
“Yes, baby, yes! Cum for me. Let me feel you! Let me hear you!” he coaxed you on and that was what you needed. You came hard, your orgasm hitting you in waves of utter pleasure, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.  
“Dean, I need you to cum too. I need to feel you inside me!” you whispered in his ear. “Now!” and that was all he needed too. He spilt inside you, his warmth filling you, making your orgasm last longer, till you couldn’t take it any more. All those sensations, things you’d never felt before, his body covered in your sweat, his lips tasting like you. Everything was perfect. Like it was supposed to be.  
After everything was over, he pulled you off the table and sitting on the floor held you in his arms, brushing your hair off your face and kissing your forehead. You rested your cheek on his chest, listening to his heartbeat return to normal and let out a soft, contented sigh.  
“Wow! This was…” he started. “Fucking amazing!” you finished off.  
“We’ll definitely need a lot of bleach to clean this place up,though!” you chuckled. His soft laugh, the last thing you heard before drifting off to sleep.


End file.
